


Maintenance Required

by Eleaun



Category: Original Work, Overwatch (Video Game), based on the overwatch universe, but there is actually not that much overwatch going on just some references
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Healthy Relationships, Horror, M/M, Will add more tags as I go, cryptid, gay stuff going on between all of these, lovecraftian inspired stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleaun/pseuds/Eleaun
Summary: A collection of short stories focusing on two original characters set in the Overwatch Universe. Mark Cummins the depressed maintenance man haunted by cryptid shit and Steve Goldblum the workaholic attorney.Due to lack of lore or unclear lore, I have taken the freedom to do whatever I want really and just basing it on Overwatch stuff.Characters are from me and my friend, who started to create characters out of shit and giggles but accidentally became more than that so here I go.I also don't that write much, sometimes I end up writing a lot for a period of time to then have a break. I have a thing for writing horror, I don't know why.





	1. That Door

**Author's Note:**

> This one is not properly proofread, might do that someday.

Mark had to change his schedule that morning due to his monthly visit to the therapist. When he arrived at work at four there was instantly an emergency, several of the old water pipes from before the omnic crisis had burst. _(This building was in general old but usually well kept apart from few areas and floors.)_ The mechanic had to spend most of the day stopping the water flow throughout the whole building _(To the_ workers' _dismay)_ and create a temporary fix to avoid having the pipes falling together completely and cause more damage. After spending hours driving around to find spare parts most of the damage had been fixed and the water had been mopped up with the help of a few kind lawyers and the cleaners. The damage was not entirely repaired and a few pipes still had only a temporary fix, being of a different type and size than the spare parts Mark found. _(They were old, after all)_ If they were not replaced with proper parts soon; the pipes would possibly not hold during the night.

It was roughly 23:45. Mark was in his office, resizing and optimising the spare parts for the stubborn pipes. Most of the employees had gone home, except for a few poor souls including himself in the basement and his boyfriend on the 38th floor. While listening to a custom playlist on his holotab _(The vintage radio he had was broken and was on his long list of personal repairs)_ he hummed for himself and fitted a bolt against the pipe fastener he had to adjust, the bolt was too tight however and he pulled out a drawer to see if he had a spare anywhere. He stopped in his tracks when he thought he heard a whisper between his music, he couldn't put his thumb on if it was the music itself having some kind of ambient sound or if there were someone in the hallway outside his office. After a quick peek outside his office, finding nobody in the hallway the maintenance man returned to his workshop.

 Several times he thought he heard the whispers, they were faint enough for him to not tell what exactly they were saying but loud enough to catch them barely between his music. With a furrowed brow he tapped at his holotab to pause the current song. He listened intently. Nothing. Only a few creaks coming from the old pipes and beams in the building, faint whirring from the servers in the server room further away in the hall outside. But no whispers. No footsteps or signs of anyone being on underground floor apart from him. This whole situation made his hair stand on end. The mechanic's eyes flicked towards the clock on his wall; 23:57.

 He realized how tired he was and returned to his work so that he could finish and finally go home. Maybe he just heard things again due to lack of sleep. Maybe his mind just played him tricks. He didn't sleep so well this night, after all, so maybe that was that. When his phone started ringing Mark wouldn't have been surprised if it weren't for the fact that it wasn't the usual phone.

 The phone had been here long before the omnic crisis, probably more than 60 years old. It was settled on the workbench beside him, kept as an artifact by Mark but also by the previous maintenance workers. Now it was ringing. It wasn't connected to the intranet or any kind of landline, what Mark knew. He gave the phone a long look, swallowed and reached for it. He picked up the receiver and put hit slowly by his ear.

 "H-hello?" Mark's voice was shaky, he heard only noise in the other end. By chance, Mark glanced up back at the clock and caught it turning from 23:59 over to 00:00. At that moment he heard a soft breath on the other side of the phone.

 "The door is open." Was a faint whisper, same as the ones previously but clearer. It wasn't a voice he recognized. With a startled gasp he stiffly turned around and looked at his office door. Which was open. Not surprising since he had left it open on purpose before. Mark slowly put the receiver away from his ear and put it on the table before he slowly made his way back out to the hallway. Grabbing a flashlight on the way out. Sweat formed on his temples as he somehow knew exactly which door the voice meant as he continued down the hall.

There was a door he saw every day, one of the few doors he did not have access to. A door with old valves and no holopads. Almost like a security door. The ones who introduced him to everything on his first day of work said there was nothing behind that door. That it was simply old and the owner just had no use for it.

 But as Mark rounded the last corner of the hallway and shone his flashlight in the direction of the door and saw it. Wide open at the end of the hall. Heavy, metallic door flung open to reveal the opening of an unknown room. As the maintenance man approached the door he became more and more aware that regardless of how close he is getting to the door, the flashlight in his shaky hand won't light up the inside of the room. He was a few steps from the door and moved his flashlight to try to be able to shine inside the room. Whatever angle he turned the flashlight, the room in front of him did not show any sign of having a floor, a wall or a ceiling. It was simply pitch black. Like looking down into a sea of tar.

 All of Mark's instincts told him to get the fuck out, but somehow he felt drawn to this emptiness. As if someone or something was tugging him to approach the door, to enter the void in front of him. It almost felt inviting to him and he took one reluctant step forward before his whole body was enveloped in goosebumps. No. There it was again. That whisper. Coming from the pitch of darkness in front of him. Mark approached the door, grabbed the valve handle and casually closed the door. He turned the handle clockwise several times before he retraced his steps back.

He went past his office. Up the small stairs to the reception floor and he turned directly to the right after passing through the "personnel only" door.  He entered the elevator in the reception. In silence, still holding the flashlight in his trembling hand, he waited for the elevator to reach the 38th floor. With a ding, the elevator doors opened and he stepped out. Walked past the empty desks and offices to the only light source at the end of the hallway. Without knocking he entered the familiar office, closed the door instantly behind him. As he turned around to lean with his back against it, facing a confused Steve at the other side of the desk, tears started streaming down his face. His hands shook, the light from the flashlight crisscrossed all over the room as he could not hold the flashlight steady. Blinding the befuddled attorney who furrowed his brows in worry.

 "I just saw something weird, Steve."


	2. The Many Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I played Layers of Fear and got heavily inspired by some weird shit and tormenting Mark with it. Steve got a bigger role in this one.

04:44  
Mark woke up with a start. Sweat ran from his brows as he stared up at the ceiling, on his right he still could feel the pressure and warmth of Steve in their non-tentacle IKEA bed. This was reassuring, he rolled over and checked the digital clock on the side table and let out a soft groan. He was tired of waking up when he was not supposed to, with strange dreams haunting him. Luckily not nightmares, but strange and weird enough to stress him out in his sleep. On top of it all, he really needed to pee but he was reluctant to get out of the warm bed. Then again, not like he could take a piss in it. Well, he could, but that would be uncomfortable for both of them. So he, slowly to not wake up his partner, scrambled out of the bed and padded silently across the bedroom to make his way to the toilet.

After he relieved himself, washed his face and stared self loathingly at his reflection, he made his way back to the bedroom. But right as he closed the bedroom door after himself, he thought he heard something fall over in the living room behind him. As if one of the stacks of books were knocked down. He turned around, opened the door and instead of facing the living room he was looking right into Steve’s study. There, in the middle of the room, was, in fact, a book on the floor.

But that is not something that Mark thought about right at this moment. There was no way the bedroom ever was connected to the study, which was located across the living room beside the bathroom. And yet, just now he entered the study directly from the bedroom. Mark closed the door quickly and cast a nervous look behind him. Steve was still in the bed, sleeping (for once) and all looked ordinary.

He faced the door in front of him and with a gulp he nervously opened it, revealing the study in front of him yet again. The book was still in the same place where it fell. Curiosity took over and Mark stepped inside the study to pick up the fallen book. He inspected the cover. Golden Rules Of Advocacy.

“Strange…” He thought, “How the hell did it end up here?” Mark spotted the bookcase with one of the books missing and returned the book to its place. The bookcase was by the wall and there was no way the book could fling itself to the middle of the room unless someone threw it. Weirded out by this whole situation with flying books and rooms being where they shouldn’t be, Mark turned to go back to the bedroom.

However, the door he went through earlier was closed. Mark could not recall he closed the door after himself. He approached it carefully and opened it. He gasped. In front of him was not the bedroom anymore but instead a hallway he never has seen before in his life. Though the hallway did hold a very familiar drawer, standing neatly in the middle of the hall, tucked against the wall. In the very end of the hall was another closed door.

Confused, a little scared but curious Mark walked up to the drawer. It was his. It had the same items on it as he left them in his own hall this evening after he came home from work. His keys, unopened letters addressed to both him and Steve, some screws he found in his pocket some weeks ago and a coffee cup with some old coffee in it. As he leaned in closer to inspect the items, making sure they are real because what the fuck even. The door leading back to the bedroom slammed shut making the man jump back from the drawer. With his heart pounding and his back against the opposite wall, he realized that the door closed by itself. Mark dashed towards it, tired of all this going on and wishing only to get out back to Steve. He pulled down the handle and tugged, but it was locked. He kept tugging, feeling the fear gently rush over his shoulders. With a fist he banged the door, calling for Steve.

But he heard no reaction from the other side and he stopped. Silence filled the hallway. He heard nothing, no grunts or footsteps. Any normal human being would have woken up by the noise Mark just made. Dread showered over him and he gave the door a few final tugs before turning around to contemplate trying that other door across the hall. “But where would it lead?” Mark asked himself, hands trembled and his heart was still pounding hard in his chest. But what other choice did he have? The door leading back was locked and there was only one other door in the hall.

With slow and reluctant steps he crossed the hall. Casting a final glance behind him before he faced the strange door. He exhaled deeply. Tried to calm himself as he opened the door slightly. He peeked through the crack. Lifting his eyebrows he opened it further. “It’s the bloody bathroom?” Mark mumbled breathlessly to himself, with wide eyes he stepped into the room. He did not enter it through the usual door, instead, when he glanced back he was stepping out of the shower. “Buh? What the- what the fuck. Whatthefuck??” he whimpered. “What is going on?” He touched the clinker wall behind him where the door has just been.

He felt the tears starting to gather in his eyes, he blinked them away, tried to hold them in. He felt too overwhelmed by all this. Now he is in the bathroom, standing in the shower like a goon. But that meant, that if he went out of the bathroom then he would be back in the living room. With this in thought, Mark hurried out of the shower and dashed out through the door.

Mark was now standing in the living room. He felt relieved, gasping softly but he was still suspicious. It did not feel quite right. He hurried to the bedroom, hoping that this would be the end of it. Hoping that when he opened that door he’d be met with the soft bed with Steve sleeping peacefully in it. But right when Mark reached out towards the door the floor beneath him disappeared and he fell. His voice got stuck in his throat and he was unable to scream, even if his heart and mind wanted to. It was a brief fall and he landed surprisingly soft, bouncing a few times before quickly scrambling off whatever thing he had landed on. To his surprise, it was his own bed.

Looking at his surroundings he found himself in the bedroom, but Steve was not around. And the things were not in the usual places. Mark backed away from the bed until his back pressed against the wall. He breathed heavily and tears were now freely running down his cheeks. His heart was still racing and even though he took a deep breath it didn’t feel like he got enough air into his lungs. Mark felt like he was choking. His legs shook and he slid down to sit on the floor. He rubbed his hands on his face, trying to control his ragged breathing and panicked whimpers.

Mark sat there until he felt calmer. At least as calm as he could be in the situation he was in. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. He let out a defeated sigh when he saw he was still in the same bedroom. He gave himself a few more moments before rising and approaching the door. When opened it revealed a staircase leading down towards something that looked like a cellar. The apartment complex’s basement to be exact, where they kept the heaters, bicycles and laundry room for the people with no washing machines.

This went on and on. Every room he entered was not in its place and the room was either recognized or a complete strange room but with furniture and items he and Steve owned or related to the apartment complex. At one point during this maze, a faint tune started to play, it always sounded like it came from some opposite room. Kind of muffled but also slightly distorted, as if was played from some bad quality file on a computer. After each room, the melody became slightly louder and faster.

This after a while started to cause more panic to Mark, and in the end, he had started to dash through the rooms, dodging pieces of furniture in one last attempt to try outrun this nightmare. The melody became louder and louder. Faster and faster. It felt like it was playing straight in his head. In each room it felt like it became darker and darker, enveloping him closer. As if he was chased. He slammed open a door, rushing across the living room. Mark stumbled over one of the armchairs in his panic, crashed over the coffee-table between the couch and television. Causing the items on the table to scatter in different directions onto the floor.

With a yelp Mark scrambled to the corner, hyperventilating and weeping. He curled up against the wall, hugging himself as he was choking on his own tears. He froze when he heard a door open and he let out a whimper. He did not want to deal with this anymore. “LEAVE ME ALONE” He yelled from his corner, daring not to open his eyes.

“Mark?”

He heard his name being called out, softly. He whimpered and gathered the courage to open his eyes.

“Mark?” The voice called again, closer this time. “Mark, may I touch you?”

When his vision was less blurry from the tears he now saw who was crouching in front of him. It was Steve.

“STEVE!” Mark exclaimed and reached out towards him, eyes red with the tears and voice creaky from the crying and yelling. He was quickly embraced by his partner. Mark buried his head in the crook of the neck and wept yet again. He was so relieved. “Oh, Steve.” He whimpered.

Steve held him firmly, rocking him slightly back and forth where they sat as he whispered a few sweet nothings. “It’s alright. You’re safe now, sugarplum.” He kissed the top of Mark’s head, trying to calm himself down as well. His heart raced instantly when he was awoken by Mark rushing in the living room, yelling and turning over furniture like a startled ram. The lawyer had gone out of the bedroom ready to wrestle a burglar or something to find Mark whimpering and crying in the corner behind the couch.

They sat there together until Mark stopped crying. Steve gave them both a little more space, leaning back a bit to be able to look Mark in the eyes. He was happy to notice Mark met his gaze. “What happened, baby? Do you want to talk about it?”

Mark rubbed his eyes, sniffling and took a deep breath. He shook his head. He didn’t feel ready yet, it was too soon. Steve let go of his boyfriend, reaching up to gently cup the cheeks. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the lips. “It’s alright, honey.” Steve whispered. “You can tell me tomorrow. Or whenever you’re ready. Come, let’s go back to bed.” And with that Steve carefully took a hold of Mark’s right hand and rose. He helped Mark back on his trembling feet.

“Don’t let go.” Mark said quietly as he was slowly led through the mess at the table he had caused.

“I won’t let go, I promise,” Steve answered, holding Mark’s hand firmly and they both made it to the bedroom. Steve tucked Mark in before he slipped in beneath the covers, still making sure he is constantly reminding Mark that he his nearby.

 

Mark didn’t sleep much for the rest of that night, neither did Steve.

 

06:30  
Both of them slowly ascended from the bed with synchronized groans. Mark felt like shit. Eyes were still stinging and he had a pounding headache. He would rather stay in the bed today and embrace death. But he knew if he skips breakfast, his mum will somehow know and hand him his ass for sure. Can’t risk that. And besides, Steve needs food as well. And so, he gathered all his powers and strength to get up together with Steve. He put on a shirt and was about to stumble towards the kitchen when he stopped by the door.

Mark reluctantly put his hand on the handle, twisted it and carefully opened the door. Steve was silently observing him as he changed underwear to something little bit more fresh, noticing the odd behavior by the door. Mark peeked out, glancing from side to side. It was the ordinary living room. He took a step back, closed the door. Waited a second before he opened it again to peek out. He took a deep sip of new breath before he stepped out and made his way very carefully to the kitchen to prepare the food.

It was a simple breakfast but wholesome. Fried eggs and ham. Though he had to concentrate hard on his task, as it felt like he would fall over any time or end up not doing it and instead escape. Leaning his head against the kitchen fan he felt exhausted.As if all energy and the will to keep going had been sucked out from him. He spaced out at one point and almost burned the eggs if it were not for Steve entering the kitchen. Mark received a soft kiss on the cheek before his partner sat down at the table, preparing some sandwiches for them both while Mark tended to the eggs. Both of them ate and finished their breakfast in silence, sitting on either side of the IKEA kitchen table. Steve was in his second cup of coffee before he spoke. “Plum, you should stay home today.”

Mark snorted softly, holding his cup with both hands, enjoying the warmth radiating from the ceramic to his fingers and palm. “If I stay home at such short notice, the place will fall apart.” He replied, voice still hoarse from the nightly adventures.

Steve laughed softly, Mark was not wrong but still. “I’m serious, though.” He said and gave Mark a long look, Mark’s gaze darted down to his own coffee mug. Avoiding the look. Steve slipped out of his chair, bringing the cup with him. He moved over to Mark’s side of the table. Sitting down on the chair beside his boyfriend, he scooted closer and put his hand on Mark’s forearm.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” He asked softly, still looking at Mark. Searching for eye contact.

Mark glanced back up at Steve and exhaled a long breath he didn’t realize he held and nodded. He carefully started from the beginning; about how he went up to go pee but was thrown into this surrealistic maze, haunted by eerie melodies and darkness chasing him. During the whole time, Steve listened intently, nodded to show he was still alert and processing what Mark was telling him.

“Ah. That explains why you ran around in the living room.” Steve replied, sipping his fourth cup of coffee. “All this sounds very unpleasant and I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.” The lawyer let out a soft sigh. “Are you afraid that it will come back if you stay home alone, is that why you don’t want to take the day off?”

“Yes.” Mark groaned, putting his face in his hands. “What if it comes back? It- It somehow feels like the risk of it coming back is lower if I go somewhere else.”

“Have you experienced this before?”

“No. Never. If this was a dream it was extremely vivid, but… I- I’m- I’m not sure it was a dream. Or maybe it was. Or I’m just finally losing it.” Mark gulps, swallowing down incoming tears as he stared back down at his empty coffee mug.

Steve gave the arm a gentle squeeze, grounding Mark, making the man look back up. Their eyes met and Steve flashed a gentle smile. “It’s alright, honey. You’re safe now with me. And, if going to work will make you feel safer, then I won’t stop you. But promise me, at least, to take it easy, okay? I’m always in the office if you need anything.”

“Aye, when something happens I will simply run up 38 stairs like some pro athlete, cheers to that babe.” Mark chuckled and Steve pinched his arm.

“You know what I mean. Just call me, okay?” Steve demanded, furrowing his brows slightly as he leaned in to give Mark’s cheek a smooch.

“I will, I always do.” Mark whispered and returned the kiss, tasting the strong coffee from Steve’s lips. They both realized at the same time that they were taking too long and might miss their sub to work. They scrambled away from the kitchen table, leaving the cups and dishes as they were. Mark and Steve shared a few more kisses, one with toothpaste flavor before they prepared themselves to leave home in the hallway.

Before Mark stepped out of the door, he gave the hallway a last glance before closing the door.


End file.
